Remember Me?
by Anovia
Summary: When Feliciano was young, he fell in love with his best friend. Sadly, the German had to move back to his home country. Years later and the two meet again, but rekindling an old flame is a quite difficult task for the brunet, especially since Ludwig forgot the two ever shared a fire.
1. Prologue: Memories of a Forgotten Past

**So I have a major problem. I think of more stories than I have the time or ability to write, or finish for that matter... Anyways, if I ever come around to this again, this is a GerIta. Yes, yes, I know. Save your dramatic gasps for a real surprise. I know I'm not a particular fan of this ship, and yet… here we are.**

**I'm trying out a new writing style with this story, so I would really appreciate your comments. Anything you thought or want me to consider would be great. If you're just going to be mean, then don't-it's pretty simple.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

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**Prologue: Memories of a Forgotten Past**

A tiny Italian boy clothed as a girl was scurrying across the backyard, trying to catch the most beautiful butterfly he had ever seen. His tiny stray curl bounced in the wind as his big brown eyes honed in on the winged creature fluttering a few inches out of the reach of his chubby hands.

Mere feet away, a boy was watching the other's actions from the comfort of the stoop—blue eyes admiring the feminine form of the other child, unbeknownst to the true gender of the brunet with whom he was intrigued. He continued to gaze at the beautiful boy, noticing the way his dress rose ever so slightly when he reached out for the delicate being. Suddenly an idea washed over him. The blond ran inside and returned with two butterfly nets. He never actually learned their intended purpose, but when the Italian was cleaning, he noticed them in the costume chest. Although he knew the brunet's parents would be upset if anything happened to these memories of a Halloween past, the blond deemed the risk worth it—anything to see that Italian's cute smile.

"Feli! Look what I found!" he proclaimed, distracting the other boy from his what might have been a never-ending quest to capture a butterfly.

"Good thinking, Ludwig!" Feliciano ran over to the shaded area near the steps into the house. He took one of the nets with a thank you then inspected the quality, determining if it would harm the flying beauty. Once he deemed it safe, the Italian rewarded his friend with a hug. Turning his head back to the sky above the grassy play area, he noted that his prize was still hovering in the same spot, and then realized the opportunity two nets provided him with: a playmate.

Ludwig was still blushing from his hug when Feliciano asked him to join in on the fun. Stuttering too much for words, the German nodded eagerly. Together, the duo fled the house's shade and braved the golden rays of the sun.

Time flew by as they played through the pattern of catching and then releasing the butterfly. It wasn't until the first star came out did Ludwig notice exactly how late it had gotten. Today, he had permission to sleep over the Italian's home, but that did not give him the right to ignore his curfew. Always a stickler for the rules, he requested the two of them go back inside. A bit disappointed, Feliciano agreed, but a few seconds later, the brunet was rolling out a list of ideas of all the games they could play inside.

That had to be the best thing about Feliciano—his overflowing jar of optimism. It was the first thing that attracted Ludwig to him.

After carefully putting the butterfly nets back exactly where he found them, Ludwig went to Feliciano's room, where the two played Candyland until the Italian's mom called lights out. Well, that was more a figure of speech. The brunet was terrified of the dark.

Ludwig, being a gentleman, even at his young age of seven, chose to sleep on the floor; however, when the night lifted, he awoke to find his Italian friend adorably asleep mere inches from his face. There was no plausible way the boy could have fallen from his bed and magically landed on the opposite side of the room tucked into the make-shift bed, which was simply a mesh of blankets and pillows. He must have snuck in sometime during the night. The German smiled at the thought that his friend wanted to be close to him and blushed slightly at how close he really was. Deciding to surprise the Italian, he went to fetch breakfast for the two of them.

The brunet's mother already had two plates of pasta ready when she noticed the blond carefully making his way down the stairs, clinging to the railing with every step. "Cautious one, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Ludwig asked, surprised. "I was just… I wanted to bring our food up to the room." The German bit his lip nervously. "May I please?"

"It's okay, sweetie. I'll bring it up," the older woman smiled, placing miniature utensils on the same tray that held the children's breakfast.

"But…" The blond stood at the plateau of the steps staring at his feet, holding his hands behind his back nervously. "It's just that I wanted to…" He let his voice trail off, not really sure how to complete his thought.

The woman seemed to understand, because she nodded. "Tell you what, I'll take this." She lifted up the tray and made her way over to the steps. "Upstairs, and when we get in front of the room, you can bring it inside. How does that sound?"

The boy's face lit up as he nodded compliantly. He ran up the top of the steps and waited with his arms extended in preparation for the task. When Mrs. Vargas made it to the top of the steps, she gently placed the tray into the boy's arms, trying to see if it was too much for the young one to carry. He managed better than she imagined. With a gentle smile, she pushed open the door for the young German before making her way back down to the first floor to retrieve drinks from the kitchen.

Ludwig woke the sleeping Italian, advising him to spend more of his morning awake. Regardless, seeing the food his blond friend had brought up, created one of the most beautiful smile the German had ever seen grace the features of the brunet. Later, he came to call it the 'Pasta Smile,' because only pasta could create such happiness for Feliciano; however, he secretly vowed to one day rename it the 'Ludwig Smile.'

Many months passed since Ludwig had first laid eyes on the Italian's special smile, and not a day went by where he didn't try to make it his own. Along the way, he learned more about his crush and their bond grew stronger for it. One evening, he got the idea to paint together. Feliciano was dripping with artistic ability, while the German was not as fortunate; however, he figured that since seeing the brunet's art always made him smile, he would try to give the Italian the same pleasure.

They set up two canvases next to each other, facing the forest that started at the end of Feliciano's backyard. The woods were fenced off by gray interlocking metal string, except for a small part near the bottom that wasn't really noticeable to anyone who didn't know it was there. The Italian, well aware of its presence, loved it, because now and then a small animal would slip through and brighten his day. As luck would have it, a creature decided to come visit the children. The two watched in awe as the white as snow cottontail squeezed itself through the tiny opening. Being a tad too big for the tight space, it was forced to wriggle its body until it came out the other side.

Fascinated with the animal, Feliciano ran up to the bunny and picked it up. He hugged it closely and then held it away at arm's length to get a better look. "I'm going to call you Romano," the boy declared. "And from now on you can be my brother." The Italian ran over to Ludwig and introduced him to his new brother. "I've always wanted a brother," the child explained, petting the rabbit. "I know!" Feliciano yelped, full of excitement. He placed the bunny on the ground and positioned his head to look towards the house. "Stay there please," he asked. "I am going to paint you!" The child ran back to his painting station and grabbed his brush.

Ludwig ambled over to behind his brunet friend and watched as he created life on the canvas. Each stroke was like a wave of a wand, all part of some intricate spell to create a cottontail. Whatever magic it was, the German knew it was working. Slowly, the creature became more realistic and grew more beautiful. The blond only wished he had half the talent his friend did.

When Feliciano was done, he signed the bottom right corner minutely in his clumsy cursive. He turned to his friend and handed him the brush. "Don't you wanna try?" he inquired of his blond friend expectantly. Ludwig was pulled out of his trance with the brunet's words. With a shy smile, he accepting the painting tool and began to work on his own replication of the image in front of him.

Despite his best efforts, the blond could barely mix the colors together properly. His green was too dark because he had originally used far much more blue than he intended to let out of the paint bottle. The next problem was trying to balance it out with the yellow, which was much more difficult than Feliciano made it look. What seemed to be a simple motion for the brunet was one of the most trying experiences the German had ever met. Eventually, he arrived at an acceptable hue—and quite a bit of it. Well, that was an understatement: his palette was basically drowning in the color. To his surprise, the blending of paint was not the hardest part. Actually painting was incomprehensibly infuriating. For starters, the grass was never straight enough, and when he painted over anything, the color got darker. A few minutes in, his grass was blotched with dark shades of green grass that nearly took up half of the canvas.

"Want help?" the brunet offered with a smile. He had simply been watching the German's frustrations, legitimately enjoying the way Ludwig was trying his best. A quality the Italian secretly admired in his blond friend—his ability to never shy away from any task, despite how hopeless it may have appeared.

Ludwig uttered a soft please and looked to his friend for advice—anything to make this task seem less arduous.

"You're holding it wrong," Feliciano explained. "Hold it more like a pencil and less like a bat."

Not really understanding what the brunet meant, Ludwig moved his grip closer to the middle of the brush. The Italian chuckled slightly at his friend's confusion. "Here," he began, taking the blond's hand in his own. "Like this."

The slight physical contact with the brunet was more than enough to send him into a blushing rage. Immediately, he reacted by dropping the paint palette in his left hand and the brush from his right, contaminating the artistic tool with a mix of dirt and grass.

The Italian studied him in bewilderment, but smiled nonetheless. "I guess next time I have to remember to bring more supplies." Feeling to blame for the day's uneventful art experience, Feliciano tried to make amends by gifting the German with his finished painting. "Here, I want you to have it."

"I can't accept this… you worked so hard on it," the blond protested, taking a step back.

"I can make another one," Feliciano explained, shoving the work into his friend's hands. "Just take it."

Trying to contain his excitement, the German nodded and carefully took the work into his small hands.

That day the two shared was one of Ludwig's fondest memories, and that painting was his most prized possessions. In all honesty, he wished he could make even fonder memories with his Italian friend, but life had other plans-his family was moving. The German's father got a better job offer in his home country. He never wanted to tell the Italian, but during his last days in America, he realized he had no other choice.

The two spent the day sitting in the backyard, neither daring to utter a word. Perhaps hoping that if they stopped moving, time would halt with them. On that day, the grass was its most vibrant green, and nature was more active—birds chirped, bunnies hopped, and the wind whistled softly in their ears. But Feliciano knew he couldn't simply pretend his problems away, so as the sun began to set, the Italian decided he was done acting as a statue. The boy could already see Ludwig's father coming for him in the distance. Acting now on pure instinct, he leaned towards his friend and pressed his lips onto the blond's, tears running down their cheeks.

Before today, the Italian had planned on giving up on their friendship-he didn't see any point in pretending that the two had a chance; nevertheless, that kiss rejuvenated the boy's sense of optimism. As he watched his first love walk off into the sunset, he wiped his eyes and decided: despite the wall that time was sure to put between them, Feliciano vowed he would see Ludwig again. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with that by-the-book German, and by pasta he wasn't going to let anything get in his way….

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**You made it this far? That's fantastic!**

**Here's the deal, I haven't been the best with keeping up with my multichapter fics in the past, so I'm going to try to take it slow. As an American young adult, I will have school to get back soon. My plan is to slowly but steadily continue this story. Expect the next chapter anywhere from two weeks to a month from now. (Most likely two weeks.) **

**Until then, I wish you all the best!**


	2. The Earthy Keeps On Spinning

**Oooh, look at me. On schedule with this update. I'm just as surprised as you are.**

**I like writing in this style. It's similar to an adventure for me, because I'm so used to writing short, funny stories. In all honesty, I still tried to make this funny-so I hope you laugh from time to time!-but that's not the main feature of the story and I hope I can handle this genre. Even though I have never been too good with serious things. And I haven't written for this couple... ever. *starts hyperventilating* No big deal. It's not like I never used to be descriptive before...*hyperventilates harder***

**Anyways, enough of me. Do enjoy my story. A lot of hard work, and a bit of cinnamon, went into it.**

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**Chapter One: The Earth Keeps on Spinning**

Nothing felt right after Ludwig left: the sky seemed dimmer, fading from its usual vibrant cerulean with tufts of bright white clouds to a more sober ocean spray with wisps of gray moving slowly throughout the sky. The grass that was once home to many days of exploring and adventures appeared to die beneath the Italian's feet; the brunet feared that its once energetic green would be a color that would forever cease to exist. Even the air morphed from fresh and crisp to overbearing and humid; at one point, it felt like it was strangling him. The sudden transformation of his world made him feel like his existence would never be normal again. Not that Feliciano expected it to be. His mind was so plagued with nostalgia, that all future experiences were doomed to be tainted with memories of his lost friendship. Three years had passed since the German disappeared from his life, and yet, he could barely look at his pet bunny without seeing his friend's face. To make it worse, no one else seemed to notice how mundane life had become. Everyone else acted as if Earth could just keep on spinning whether or not the two were together, but the Italian knew better.

Feliciano was trying his best to find his friend, but he wasn't exactly a private investigator. As social networks popped up, the Italian made accounts on everything from Facebook to Twitter, typing Ludwig Beilschmidt into every search bar; unfortunately, his only discovery was how many people on those sites shared his friend's name.

Sometimes the brunet thought it would be best if he just made new friends and moved on, but it was a lost cause. Years passed at a snail's pace, and every day the Italian only succeeded in missing the German even more. It had to be love; only love could make him feel so terrible every day, and if it wasn't, then it was the strongest infatuation known to man. Even when Feliciano had tried to date, he couldn't escape the guilty feeling of cheating on Ludwig.

There was only a minute time in his life when Feliciano wasn't completely focused on finding the blond. When he turned twelve, his parents told him the truth of his origin: he was adopted. It was a fairly short discussion and they were very nice about it, even offering to help the boy if he ever decided to look into his birth parents. As much as he loved his family, he still wanted to know of his past. They proved much easier to find than his childhood friend: his birth mother died in delivery of her twin boys with no remaining family. Obviously, he researched his brother, Lovino. At the time, the other Italian boy was currently sent back from the foster family he used to be with. This was the perfect chance to get the brother he always wanted.

Feliciano went down to the living room, where his parents were relaxing at the moment.

"Hey, what's on your mind, kiddo?" Mrs. Vargas asked, curious as to why her son was messing around with electronics.

He looked over to his parents nervously, loading a slide show on the television's screen. "Well, remember how you said you were thinking about getting a second child?" He pointed to the title of his presentation, _Why You Should Adopt Lovino. _

"Who's Lovino?" the father inquired, shifting his position on the couch to get a better view of the presentation.

"My twin, and he could be my brother," the Italian explained, hitting the enter key on his laptop, taking them to the next slide, which was a picture of the aforementioned twin and a quick biography.

"You have a twin? I thought-" Mrs. Vargas began, before turning to her husband to continue. "They said he was already taken by another family," she whispered.

Overhearing his mother, he took out a pointer and made a red circle around a portion of the brother's life summary. "After his adoption to Mr. Remulus, a single father, the two lived a happy life together for two years; however, one day, the man disappeared, leaving Lovino to get sent to foster care. He's never been kept by another family for anything more than a few months."

"That's terrible," Mrs. Vargas stated, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

"He's never been able to experience the feeling of a loving family. I can't stay here knowing that my brother is somewhere out there, alone, probably wondering why no one wants him, because _I_ want to be with him. We're like parts of a set. We shouldn't be kept apart. And you wouldn't even be taking him from a family. Right now, he's back in the home, and can be adopted," Feliciano continued, clicking to the next page. It harbored the same picture of the boy, with drawn tears behind cropped bars. On the right was the location and number of the center where the possible new addition to the Vargas family was being held.

The speech elicited enough sympathy from his mother to guarantee a yes from her. Immediately, she turned to Mr. Vargas with pleading eyes. "What do you think? Our house is a little too big for just the three of us."

He sighed and then turned to his child. "You had me at hello."

Feliciano's eyes grew wide with joy. Honestly, he had not thought they would agree so quickly. He ran up to both of them, pulling them into a hug. All he could think to say was thank you.

After that, the Italian's main focus became his brother. Even though he still missed Ludwig more than he could bear, the thought of getting a brother was more than enough to take his mind off it. The adoption process took about six months, which was relatively fast.

Lovino was part of the family by the beginning of August. The Vargases threw him a welcome home party—Feliciano's idea. Though the two were similar in appearance, their personalities couldn't have been any more opposite. Lovino had hair of a darker brown, with the same annoying stray curl, except his was on the right side of his head. He tried his best not to seem angry at the party, but he hated large crowds. His brother, on the other hand, was extremely gregarious. Feliciano spent the day introducing his twin to all his friends from the sixth grade who he hoped would be both their friends as they entered the seventh. Most of the kids seemed uninterested in the Italian's new sibling if not disgusted by the boy's dark outlook on the world.

The newest Vargas was a pessimist if Feliciano had ever seen one. All his time spent switching from family to family made it hard for the boy to trust anyone; however, he seemed to have a natural liking for his brother. Being older by a few seconds, Lovino felt the need to protect his optimistic sibling, who he believed to a bit naïve at times. Perhaps all the hardships he had gone through made him want to spare Feliciano from ever experiencing such upsetting memories. Whatever the reason, the Italian was happy to accept the brotherly love he had so long been in want of.

As content as Feliciano was to have a brother, he still wasn't able to take his mind off of his childhood friend. Months went by and he still found himself thinking about how the blond would look now, how his voice would sound, how tall he was, what his new interests were. Despite all his searches being uneventful, Feliciano typed in Ludwig's last name into the Facebook search bar, which resulted in the same collection of strangers. With a sigh, he turned away from his screen, doing an 180 degree spin in his swivel chair. His life nearly flashed before his eyes when he saw his brother standing behind him without his knowledge. Lovino's sudden presence almost solicited a scream from the terrified Italian.

"Why are you looking up the UN representative for Germany?" the boy asked, not bothering to explain his appearance.

"Oh," the younger sibling glanced at his laptop screen. His sudden fear had made him forget what he was doing earlier. "I was looking for an old friend of mine, not UN workers."

"Whatever, I guess they just share the same last name," Lovino sighed, taking a seat on his brother's bed.

"How do you even know that he's a UN representative?"

"Common knowledge _idiota_. He was stationed in the US a while back ago, but then transferred to Germany."

Feliciano raised an eyebrow at his brother comment and decided that it probably had something to do with the Italian's dream of working for the United Nations. "Wait… he transferred to Germany? From the US?"

"What are you? An echo?" Lovino quipped, rolling his eyes. "He was here, and then he left." The dark-haired brunette pointed to the floor and then to the side, reinforcing his words with pantomiming.

"Really? Then he might be related to the friend I was looking for!"

"Is your friend his kid?"

"Maybe."

"Then he probably goes to World Academy. It's this school full of kids from around the world, but mainly it's full of the children of diplomats and such," Lovino explained, laying himself on his brother's bed, most likely preparing for a nap.

Feliciano eyes glittered with hope. He hadn't been this excited since… he couldn't remember when. Immediately, he typed the school's name into google's search bar. While Lovino was drifting into a comfortable sleep, his brother was reading about the high school, overjoyed.

A few hours later, when Mrs. Vargas called her children down for dinner, Feliciano had a dossier full of information on World Academy. Lovino rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as his brother collected his papers. Both boys were pleasantly surprised to smell pasta coming from the kitchen, and they dashed down the stairs and happily took seats at the table.

"What's new boys?" Mr. Vargas asked, finishing aiding his wife in placing dinner on the table before finally sitting down.

"Nothing. School sucks and everyone's an idiot," Lovino asserted, grabbing a piece a piece of bread from the overflowing basket.

The Italian's mother sighed. "Have you gotten to know them?"

"No, because they're idiots."

"I know where I want to go to high school," Feliciano interjected, disrupting what he had known from past experience to be a never-ending conversation.

Mr. Vargas raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He buttered a piece of bread he was about to eat. "Is there girl involved?"

"Honey!" his wife warned, looking at him sternly.

"Sorry. Or guy. Whichever you want. I'll love you either way. Because that's your right. I don't care what you do. I mean… I do care, as your father. But it's not my decision. Your life is yours. You can do whatever with whomever. Well, not _what_ever. You can't commit murder. Murder is bad. Please don't commit murder. I have no idea what I'd do. I guess you might have a valid reason. Maybe the guy was trying to kill you. Guy or girl, either which. Both can kill people. But you can't. Unless you have a very good reason. So yeah, and don't sag your pants. That's not cool. It's just lame." He smiled a bit too wide for it to have been anything but forced. He looked to his wife for reassurance; she simply rolled her eyes. Lovino literally face palmed. "What?" Feliciano was too confused to speak. "When guys want things, there's usually a person behind it. That's why I learned to play the guitar."

"I thought you loved the guitar," Mrs. Vargas asserted, turning to her husband.

"_You _love the guitar. _I _love you. In the long run, it was worth it, but the blisters I got, my gosh."

"World Academy," Feliciano interrupted, finally finding his voice. He was not going to let the conversation get away from him. "I want to go for the art program."

"Academy?" Mrs. Vargas inquired, pushing the bread aside to get to the lasagna. "Sounds strict."

"What do you know about this school? Is it far? Is it safe?" Mr. Vargas questioned, curious about the boy's motives. He wanted his son to be able to pursue his dream, but he also wanted to make sure his idea wasn't half-baked.

Feliciano took out three folders he had stashed under his seat at the beginning of the meal, handing one of each of his family members. Lovino raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to his parents about his suspected reason of his brother's sudden interest in the school. "It's a boarding school in New York."

The teen's parents were thoroughly taken aback. They hadn't seen their son put this much effort into anything since wanting a brother. "If you really want this," his mother looked to Mr. Vargas, asking him with her eyes. "Then we will support you fully, after we do a little research of our own, that is. Not that this isn't extensive," she added, flipping through the file.

The Italian's eyes widened to an impressive degree. "Really?! They stop accepting applications November first if I want a scholarship. There are some interviews, but our grades are good enough." He turned his direction to his brother. "They have a good political program there. Sixty percent of the students who leave there go on to work in international relations and government. I don't know if you want to leave here just yet…" Feliciano glanced towards his parents and then back to his sibling. "But it would be really fun to have you with me." He shifted his eyes down to his plate, not really sure what he would do if his brother said no. The two were almost finished with the seventh grade, and even though they had only lived together for less than a year, it felt like a lifetime.

"Of course I'm going with you. You can barely take care of your bunny by yourself, no way I trust you to live on your own," Lovino smirked, putting the file down to return to his pasta dinner. "What do I have to do?"

"Well, we have to take a test called the Secondary School Admission Test, or SSAT for short, and there is also an entrance exam," Feliciano smiled. He continued on to explain the beautiful scenery and the diverse background of the school, lividly making hand gestures the entire time.

His parents were so happy to see their son take such an interest in his future. Lovino, however, was left wondering how important that Beilschmidt kid was to his brother. He couldn't understand why one childhood friend was worth the life he had spent years developing. If Feliciano left for New York, he would be leaving tens of friends behind.

_That must have been one special friend_, Lovino mused.

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**The next chapter is scheduled for August 27th (yes of this year). **

******Too much detail? Too little? Just right? I would love constructive criticism from you guys. **Feel free to drop a review if you want to share you opinions with me. I'd be happy to hear them. 


	3. Meeting You For the First Time, Again

**Hey, sorry. This was supposed to be out yesterday.**

**To be honest, I completely forgot. So please remind me. I have a really busy schedule, but I desperately want to finish this story-and in a timely manner, mind you.**

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**Chapter 2: Meeting You For the First Time, Again**

Feliciano grinned as he made his way across his new campus. A few years ago, the idea of a boarding school would have been terrifying to the Italian; it still was, but not nearly as frightening as before. With his newfound brother at his side, being away from his parents for such a long time didn't seem as daunting, in fact, it was kind of exciting. Everything from the clusters of students forming around him to the freshly cut grass appealed to the brunet.

Lovino pulled Feliciano from his thoughts with a nudge of his elbow. "I'll take the bags. Meet me at our room after getting us maps of this place." He eyed the large courtyard, taking one of the two keys to the dorm from his pocket to hand to his brother. "It's fucking huge and you're delirious if you think I'm going to be spending my days finding you every time you get lost." Feliciano exchanged his duffel bag and pet bunny for the key, taking special care not to shift his pet too much. With a cheery smile of gratitude, he thanked his brother who merely rolled his cocoa eyes and made off towards the freshman dorms.

Alone, Feliciano took a moment to observe his environment. Students littered the grass-all of them appeared to be either introducing themselves or re-encountering old friends. A smile crept up his face as the Italian decided he was going to like it here. The environment was friendly and the classes seemed promising. While he was going to miss his parents, he knew the high brick walls of this school would soon become a second home to him.

He put his hands in his pockets and headed towards the largest building he could see. It seemed like a good enough idea, especially since the stone pathway led to the edifice's entrance. In the end, his intuition proved right. A few minutes later, the brunet was heading back down the path with two maps folded in his back pocket. He twirled his room key in between his finger, enjoying his walk over to his brother; yet, he stopped abruptly when something caught his interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, Feliciano noticed a blond teen lecturing an albino. The Italian's heart all but leaped out of his chest. Shoving the key in his front pocket, he hastily made his way over to the male with the German accent. The closer he got, the clearer the teen's features seemed and the brunet's excitement increased with every step. By the time he was a couple of feet away from the person who might be his long-lost friend, he was positive that the boy in front of him was the one he had been searching for. The German's face had matured some: his face had rid itself of baby fat; his jaw was solid and definitely more defined; and his wide blue eyes that Italian had grown to love were now squinted a little bit more but Feliciano could tell that it was definitely him. One word screamed through his mind continuously: _Ludwig._

All the while he was walking towards his childhood friend, his speed increased. By the time he reached Ludwig, he was running. Overjoyed, the Italian captured the blond in a hug from the side. He had spent countless hours imagining what he would do when they met again, but nothing could prepare him for the happiness he felt at that moment in time. His smile reached from ear to ear and tears of joy were forming at the corner of his eyes.

Ludwig, on the other hand, was having a completely different reaction. He was in the middle of a conversation with his brother about the older teen's overuse of the word awesome when a strange Italian basically tackled him. He was trapped in an awkward hug by some person whom he decided was psychotic. None of his morning training could have prepared him for a situation as this. He made a mental note to begin his martial arts studies this year.

Feliciano pulled back to look at his friend only to notice his feelings weren't reciprocated. Confusion was written all over the German's face. The Italian had to blink to make sure his eyes weren't playing a trick on him; sadly, that wasn't the case. He understood that it had been a few years, but there wasn't the slightest sign of recognition in the blond's eyes. Crestfallen, he let his hands fall from the teen's shoulders. Maybe he was mistaken.

After the uncomfortable silence, Ludwig decided to speak. Seeing as his brother had long since snuck away, he decided to use this time to lecture the stranger on proper manners.

"Who gave you the right to hug me?" the German demanded, slightly angered at the unnecessary physical contact.

"I uh…" Feliciano shook off his dejection, and smiled his famous, cheery smile. He had to come up with an excuse quickly. Glancing down, he noticed the teen's ID attached to the top of his jeans: _Ludwig Beilschmidt_. "Hi! I'm Feliciano." He tilted his head slightly, incredibly puzzled as to why the German in front of him had no recollection of him.

"Ludwig," the blond stated plainly. "Who gave you the right to hug me?"

"You looked like you could use a hug!" the Italian explained enthusiastically.

Caught off guard by the teen's lively answer, the German almost accepted the explanation, before returning to his senses. "You cannot simply hug strangers," Ludwig rationalized.

"But you needed one!" Feliciano protested.

In a mix of disbelief and annoyance, the blond pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. He could already tell this was going to be a long and arduous conversation… "You have no right to judge the necessity of a hug for others."

The brunet shook his head. "Some people don't know when they need a hug."

"Then that is for them to figure out!"

"I don't want to fight," the Italian decided. He brought his right hand up to his chin as if in contemplation. "How about we just be friends instead?"

Bewildered, the German stared at the other teen momentarily. "That's not how you make friends. You have to learn to respect the personal space of others. Some people dislike physical contact and therefore should not be subject to it because of another person's whims."

The Italian nodded as if he was taking it all in. "So, is that a yes?" Whether or not Ludwig remembered him, they were going to be together Feliciano decided. If that meant starting all over, so be it.

This brunet was something special, because Ludwig had never been taken aback this many times in a single conversation. "Um…" He honestly didn't know how to answer. When he was younger, he hadn't had friends. No one would put up with his ridiculous training regiment, not that it bothered him-they would only slow him down. "Why do you want to be my friend?"

Feliciano smiled joyfully, knowing the question was a sign of consideration. "Because you're so nice to me. Instead of getting mad at me, you explained why it was wrong to hug strangers! I think we would be great friends!"

"I've never had a friend before…" The Italian inwardly cringed at the German's words. "I would most likely treat you badly…"

"You could never!" the brunet protested.

"How can you say that? You have no evidence and are therefore spouting lies," the blond asserted, staring down his new friend.

"I can say that because…" Feliciano stopped himself. Clearly Ludwig doesn't remember the past they had shared. "Because I am an excellent judge of character. You love to follow the rules, right? Well, there are rules to friendship. I'll teach you them."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "There is a rule book?"

"No. Not a rulebook per se, but there are rules. They're just unwritten," the Italian explained.

"Ahh, so I should take notes?"

"Ugh… mental notes, sure."

The blond nodded. "Very well then." He stuck his hand out to be shaken.

"Rule number one: friends hug friends," the brunet stated just before pulling the German into another hug.

Visibly uncomfortable, Ludwig stood with his hand awkwardly in the air, unsure what to do with them, so he simply waited until the Italian was finished with whatever he was trying to accomplish.

"See you around," Feliciano smiled, finally pulling away.

"I too hope that the wind carries you safely through all of life's journeys."

The Italian chuckled to himself. He had forgotten how serious the German sounded when said good bye. With a smile, he waved adios to his new friend and skipped off in the direction of the dorms. He couldn't understand why Ludwig didn't remember him. Everyone always told him he was a spitting image of his younger self-well, without the dresses.

Feliciano had to take out his key for a moment to check the number of his room, not wanting to get lost. It only took his attention for a few seconds, but apparently that was enough time for him to bump into somebody accidentally, sending the Italian's key to the floor.

"_Scheibe_. I'm so sorry," a heavy German accent apologized.

"No, it's my fault." The brunet picked up his key and then looked up to the familiar looking albino in front of him. "Gilbert?"

"Oh, hey. Feliciano right?"

The Italian nodded slowly, grateful that someone remembered him.

"Weren't you like best buds with my brother when you two were kids?" the German asked, not quite sure himself.

"Yeah… I ran into him today. You were there," the brunet agreed, trying to engage the albino in conversation. He didn't want to simply start off by bombarding Gilbert with questions about his brother; fairly certain that it would make him appear like a stalker.

"I knew it. The awesome me never forgets a face. Oh, and thanks for the save. You know how much of a prude he can be about rules."

Agreeing, Feliciano nodded again. Apparently, that seemed like the end of the conversation to the German, because he had started to turn around. Not wanting to let Gilbert leave just yet, the brunet asked him a question. "Can you believe that he doesn't remember me?" Feliciano chuckled.

"Meh, I guess that why _I_'m the awesome one in the family," the albino boasted, adjusting his uniform tie.

"Yeah… I suppose it was a long time ago…"

"Mhmm, you guys were like seven or whatever," he agreed, before remembering something. "_Oh mein Gott,_ I spaced for a bit. Ludwig got amnesia a few years back. He got like this crazy concussion and was in a comma for like an entire day, but like forgot everything from his past. All he remembered was how to speak. It was scary," the German explained.

"Oh, that sounds awful."

"_Ja_," he seconded, nodding. "But I mean, he only forgot his younger years, which he was bound to forget anyways. In the grand scheme of things, he got off pretty lucky."

"Yeah… I barely remember being that young now," Feliciano asserted half-heartedly. He sighed, for a moment forgetting he was talking to someone.

"Exactly," Gilbert continued, drawing attention back to himself. "And if anything, you should be happy he doesn't remember you. When you were little, you always dressed like a girl, remember?"

The brunet laughed uneasily. "I could never work the buttons on pants," the Italian added meekly.

"Whatever, it was super embarrassing. Did you know he thought you were a girl?" Feliciano raised an eyebrow. "I never had the heart to tell him otherwise, because I didn't want him laugh at you or anything, but it was hilarious."

"So funny…"

"Listen, I gotta meet up with some of my friends, but if you ever need anything, don't be a stranger," the albino stated, before taking his leave.

Feliciano waved at the German, until he was out of sight, not sure how to process what he had just heard. Ludwig had absolutely no recollection of him, and the Italian didn't even know if the blond was gay or not. Curse him and his inability to work the fly on his pants as a child!

The brunet took a deep breath in an effort to clear his mind. Trying to think about what to do next, he ran his fingers through his hair, careful not to disrupt the stray curl on the side of his head. If he got the German to fall for him once, he could certainly do it again, couldn't he?

_Definitely_, the teen decided. Similar to what he had determined earlier, he would make the blond his, whether he remembered him or not. All he had to do is be the same overly optimistic ball of energy he was in his younger days. Hell, it worked before. Certainly it would have the same outcome now. If anything, maybe it would jog his memory!

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